Mike Vraney, founder of the underground/exploitation film distro concern Something Weird Video, died yesterday after a long struggle with lung cancer. He is survived by his wife, artist Lisa Petrucci.

Something Weird (warning: boobies) was founded in Seattle in 1990, and has kept thousands of filmed oddities alive and available that almost certainly would have lost were it not for Vraney’s curatorial ministrations. From SW’s about page:

Here on your screen is a whole world of film that just a few short years ago was considered lost or worthless. The industry that produced and distributed these films had long since vanished and there was no sign of the men who actually created these bottom of the barrel celluloid wonders. That is until now.

In 1990 (roughly), we started Something Weird Video with the idea of releasing films that had never been on video. In my mind, the last great genre to be scavenged were the exploitation/sexploitation films of the 30’s through the 70’s. After looking into this further, I realized that there were nearly 2,000 movies out there yet to be discovered. So with this for inspiration, my quest began and wouldn’t you know, just out of the blue I fell into a large collection of 16mm girlie arcade loops (which became the first compilation videos we put together!) Around the same time I received an unexpected phone call that suddenly made all this real - my future and hands-down the king of sexploitation Dave Friedman was on the other end of the line - this would be the beginning of a long and fruitful friendship for both of us. Dave’s films became the building blocks for our film collection and he has taught and guided me through the wonderful world of sexploitation - introducing me to his colleagues (Dan Sonney, Harry Novak, H.G. Lewis, Bob Cresse, and all the other colorful characters who were involved during his heyday) and they’ve been eager to dive into the business again. (And initially, most are shocked that anyone is even interested in this stuff to begin with!)

 

 
Anyone—everyone—interested in strange cinema owes Mike Vraney a debt. The video shop that I mentioned in a DM post just yesterday carried so a huge a selection of his wares that they ultimately wound up simply giving him his own Something Weird wall, so much of worth did he preserve. Very little of SW’s stock is work safe—sleaze was the order of the day—but this relatively tame trailer imparts the kitschy, campy, sexy, goofy fun of the films he rescued from oblivion. We salute you and your legacy, Mr. Vraney, and we’re very sorry to lose you.
 

I can’t exactly remember the first time I saw or became aware of Chesty Morgan. Which is odd, especially since she is best known for her strange assortment of bad wigs and a 73-inch, all natural bust line. It’s like she has always been a part of my life. Like one stoic, large breasted angel, whose face vacillates between confused and languid in Doris Wishman’s surrealistic exploitation film, Deadly Weapons.

Lest there is any question about what type of titular weaponry we are talking about here, the first 30 seconds will immediately set you straight. After a few seconds of some groovy, 60’s rock, a loud drone type noise emerges and then suddenly there’s Chesty, or Zsa Zsa, as she is billed in the film, with her arms outstretched like a menacing breasty crane. The rock soundtrack comes back and then we are treated to Chesty Morgan admiring and vaguely fondling her breasts in a series of modern type, circular mirrors. The psychedelic fun house effect, while maybe not the most sexy thing in the world, is great and fitting. (After all, Deadly Weapons is a keen example of a sexploitation carnival ride, so grab a ticket, strap on your lap-belt and enjoy!)

Chesty stars as Crystal, a successful advertising executive who loves chunky shoes, pantyhose and her jocular, hairy chested lover, Larry (Richard Towers). While the affection is very much shared, Larry’s tied up with some very shady, underworld types, often flanked by Tony (the great Harry Reems) and a balding gent with an eye patch (Mitchell Fredericks) that goes by the name Captain Hook. They pull a hit on one well-connected man, with a powerful little black book. Larry finds it first and slips it into his jacket, in effect pulling a silent double cross on his partners. As you can imagine, his plan does not flesh out well and once he is found out to be a fink, they ice him.

Crystal, through some bad cosmic lattice timing, ends up hearing the whole thing over the phone. But not without overhearing such key details like the fact that Hook is fleeing to Vegas and has a weakness for burlesque dancers. This is good to know, but before our uber-cleavagey heroine can commence on her plan for revenge, we get treated to a long, strange, dream-like sequence including one stupendous shot of Crystal’s tear streaked breasts super-imposed over a blue pool. It’s absurd in its wonderment and wonderful in its total ridiculousness.
 
 
Up next, she’s off to Vegas and tries to get a job at one of the more unseemly burlesque houses. The sleazy manager, a man that undoubtedly reeks of stale cigars and Hai Karate, has no interest in the persistent gal in the strangely frumpy top. That is until she unleashes her fleshy pulchritude, resulting in both his eyes bugging out to a comical Tex Avery type sound effect. Of course, she gets the job. Crystal’s a hit immediately but has her striptease career cut short as quickly as it began, when she gets fired for rebuffing the sexual advances of her slimy boss. He does at least let her finish her shift. Feeling hopeless in her ability to catch Captain Hook, she starts to dance regardless and guess who shows up for the girly show?

Captain Hook is instantly smitten and takes her back to his room, only to get roofied and then smothered to death by her pendulous bosom of doom. Of course, not before unwittingly giving her information on the whereabouts of Tony. Will Crystal be able to fully avenge the death of her lover or will she become the victim of the ultimate double cross?

Deadly Weapons is one strange film, which was par for the course of the late, great Doris Wishman, the same woman behind Nude on the Moon and Bad Girls Go To Hell. On one hand, it is a completely, dyed-in-the-wool piece of cinematic ridiculousness. The rapt obsession with Chesty’s breasts permeates almost every frame of the film, but with the effect being less sexual and more surreal. Part of this is due to the somnambulist-esque performance of Chesty herself. She ranges at times between looking confused and tired but then peppers it with these odd attempts to make a sexy, licking-her-lips face. The bizarre fashion choices only add to this, whether it is the awkward silver wigs, secretary-type pantyhose or the occasionally frumpy blouses. Of course, she does don some legitimately burlesque type clothing for her act and in half of the film, she lounges around in a frilly pink number, but the whole thing feels more like some bosom-mad fever dream than anything else.

The crime elements add some pulp-style fun with the underrated Harry Reems being especially good as the murder-happy mook Tony. There’s an interesting and surprisingly bleak twist at the end, all adding up to one colorful cinematic oddity. Even better is that the company that has blessed us with this film, Something Weird Video, has recently released a triple feature on Blu-Ray that has Deadly Weapons, its sister film Double Agent ‘73 (which involves a camera being implanted into her breasts, all in the name of super-secret spy work) and the non-Chesty film, The Immoral Three. So if you love a little hi-def with your exploitation, then you will be as happy as a breast-obsessed lamb. Even if you think this is an awful film, you cannot deny the beautiful strangeness that is Deadly Weapons.

Deadly Weapons (1974) trailer by filmow